Movie TearsJennifer Flaten

I saw “Big Hero Six,” with the kids. If I were in charge the movie’s title I would change, it to, “Big Box of Kleenex” needed.

I cried during the opening short.

Seriously, I cried during the opening short. I also cried later when I tried to explain the premise of the short to someone. I cried in the middle and I cried at the end. I snuffled and tried to blow my nose, discreetly, through the entire movie. No, wonder the kids asked if they could sit one row behind me.

I should point out I was the only one in our little group who found the movie tear-worthy. The kids found it funny and clever, but sad, that would be a big no. In fact, I don’t think my kids have ever cried at a movie.

Unless you count the time my son started crying during “March of Penguins,” not because he was sad about the penguins, but because he was tired of sitting still in the movie theatre.

I do not have an ice-cold, lump of coal heart.

Contrary to popular belief, mainly my kids after I saw no to the ice cream for dinner suggestion, I do not have a chunk of ice-cold coal for a heart. Something about kids’ movies, especially ones involving talking and singing animals, makes me weepy. “Titanic”, not a teardrop shed. “How to Train Your Dragon” deserved one entire box of tissue.

That’s why I prefer to see the kids’ movies at the theatre. In the dark theatre, no one can see me come apart as I watch Andy give away Buzz and Woody. Seriously, who could do that somewhere in my basement is a box of stuffed animals the kids no longer play with I’ll probably keep it forever.

Keep in mind I am also the person who gets squirmy during love scenes. As a little kid I was forced, forced I tell you, to watch “Dallas” and other nighttime soap operas with my grandmother. My grandmother eschewed daytime soaps calling them trashy, but she sure loved her “Dallas” and “Falcon Crest.” She drew the line at Dynasty, though, thought that one was just too risqué. Imagine what the poor old woman would think of television now.

Anytime, couples kissed, because this was the 80s and TV was still prudish, kissing was all they did I found some reason to leave the room, or start up a conversation or something to distract from the smooch, smooch on the screen.

When “Black Swan” hit the theatres, my mother wanted to go see it with me. For one reason or another that didn’t work out. We never saw it together. When it finally came out on DVD, I watched it and was immensely happy I didn’t see it in the theatre with my mother.

Only my son and I wished for more action and less kiss-kiss.

Of course, now that the girls are older we see less cute, fuzzy animal movies and darker, dystopian future movies and I don’t mind really. It is better for me; I spend less time stifling my sniffling. Only now instead of crying I’m get slightly squeamish because the movies geared towards teenage girls contain a fair amount of romance. Eww. I don’t want to watch a bunch of kissing with my kids. We will never, ever see, “Twilight.” Obviously, not “Dallas” level romance, but some teen friendly romance. I prefer singing fish.

We watched “Hunger Games: and my son and I were the only ones rooting for more action and less Peeta and Katniss kiss, kiss.

Jennifer Flaten lives where the local delicacy is fried cheese, Wisconsin.
She writes about family life, its amusing or not so amusing moments. "At least it's not another article on global warming," she says. Jennifer bakes a mean banana bread and admits an unusual attraction to balloon animals and cup cakes. Busy preparing for the zombie apocalypse, she stills finds time to write "As I See It," her witty, too often true column. "My urge to write," says Jennifer, "is driven by my love of cupcakes, with sprinkles on top. Who wouldn't write for cupcakes, with sprinkles," she wonders.